


The Time is Now - Celebrating.........

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:59:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is going to be a village celebration</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time is Now - Celebrating.........

Celebrating Brotherhood........and ducks

Arthur is so late reaching the shepherd’s hut that Kai thinks he has been unaccountably delayed and indeed cannot come at all. Kai has escaped Llud’s eternal vigilance this afternoon by claiming that he was entertaining Tarn – then persuading the youthful chieftain that all he really wanted to do was have a relaxing slumber with his hut door barred after his tiring journey to Arthur’s village.

Now though, the sun is low in the western sky, the shadows are lengthening – and when you’re utterly naked and need to relieve yourself twice because of all the mead you’ve consumed while idly waiting, it’s a bit tricky to dash outside with just a wad of sheepskin to cover your vitals, in case of a meandering hunter or charcoal burner. Therefore, when he at last sees a flash of familiar white through the trees and his brother gallops into the sheltered clearing, Kai is immensely relieved.

Leaping from horseback, Arthur furiously loops the reins around a hanging branch. “If I have to inspect another boar or find another butt of wine or watch Llud counting the number of hares hanging in the storehut………” Kai looks up grinning from where he is lying among the fleeces piled on the floor, arms comfortably folded behind his head. “Well, little brother, they are preparing a feast and you can’t blame them for wanting to make everything……” He gets not one word further.

Arthur flings himself against the length of his warm body, frenziedly throwing off his shirt, deliriously tossing his breeches out the door so that they land, tangled, among the limbs of a sycamore tree. Yet if anyone was to enquire why the head of the Celtic alliance’s apparel was merrily flying like a battle standard in the quickening afternoon breeze, the only answer they would receive would be low moans of rapture and a few sighs of gratification………

Hungrily Arthur seeks Kai’s mouth with his own, closes his eyes and murmurs in bliss as he feels Kai’s hot wet tongue drawing a line of raw fire from the edge of his arse up to the nape of his neck. Kai sucks and nips down his brother’s backbone, knowing that time is short, - then takes Arthur’s full-fledged cock in one hand, so that the prick head gently nestles in the valley between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly Kai begins to move his hand up and down, letting his brother’s hardness slide in and out of the moist hollow.

Almost effortlessly Kai’s fingers rub Arthur’s rigid shaft, gliding as if on an oiled surface. Arthur whimpers with joy and turns on to his side, as his prick spurts crystal clear fluid, Kai’s hand cupped dextrously beneath. Tenderly Kai daubs his brother’s translucent offering within his opening - and circles Arthur’s cleft covetously with his tongue.

Arthur sobs as intense spasms begin to rock his body. Then he shivers, intoxicated, as something far less lissome, if equally as dewy, rubs along his spine. That’s not Kai’s tongue any more……With a roar of elation Kai sinks in, one hand still braced around Arthur’s bulging cock, exquisitely stroking. Kai bends forward, his mouth raining over Arthur’s neck and his dark hair……..the shadowy room and the fleeces on which they lie are burning up around them……… then Kai’s palm is drenched with Arthur’s creamy alabaster seed as his body convulses blessedly around his little brother’s…….

Afterwards, Arthur lies with his black head cradled in the crook of Kai’s arm, completely satiated. “Well, this is it big brother. They will have to continue preparing their feast without me. Because I am determined to never move again.” Laughingly he kisses Kai’s bare shoulder. Kai grins contentedly. “Arthur, however much I would love to indulge you – and actually I think that I just finished doing so – you are the chieftain – and its getting dark. Our father will be sending out search parties for you soon – and perhaps they’d better not discover your breeches entwined in that sycamore…..”

Arthur rolls over so that this time the kiss brushes his brother’s lips, like the gentlest whisper. “Alright, but if I have to go back to tallying rabbits, you can get to the longhouse. Lenni thinks that she’s the queen of the cooking pot now and just before I left, Esla was insisting that her way of preparing duck is superior. You know that Esla has never been Lenni’s favourite person because of your past……acquaintance with her. No matter that she’s married to the trader now with children. I’m afraid that if one of us isn’t there Lenni just may be tempted to use her ladle for something other than stirring…….

There is indeed a strained atmosphere in the longhouse when Kai strides in. Lenni and Esla have several large ducks chopped into pieces on the table. Now they are strenuously arguing – Lenni with snapping fingers and Esla with spitting words - over whether the denuded poultry should be stewed in thick fig syrup or wine, how many stoned damsons should be cast into the pot, if honey should be added now or later. Kai watches them in amusement, dips a questing finger in the half-prepared sauce, licks it appreciatively. Playfully Esla swats it away and Lenni’s face turns a vehement puce.

Quickly Kai pulls her close. “That tastes wonderful. I’m sure that it’s all going to be splendid.” Lenni looks slightly mollified and gestures haughtily to Esla that they should continue removing damson stones. Sighing Esla picks up a ripe fruit and her knife, peering at Kai flirtatiously under her lashes. Luckily Lenni is preoccupied doing exactly the same thing. And at that moment the longhouse door is flung enthusiastically open and in stomps Mark.

“Kai, there you are. I’ve just arrived to join the gathering. I saw Arthur and Llud outside – they said to come here and get some meat and ale.” As he speaks, he wanders curiously around the room, discovering a pear, a chicken leg, a welcome jug of adder’s sting. Kai watches him, grinning and waiting. His dancing eyes meet Lenni’s. Mark reaches the hearth, pitcher tilted against his mouth, wine slurping into his beard – and stubs his booted toe abruptly against something low and wooden. With a muffled oath he glances down and springs backwards as if he’s been bitten.

“It’s a baby.” Kai shakes his blonde head, wonderingly. “Can’t try and fool you can we Mark?” Stupefied, Mark gazes down at the slumbering infant in its cradle. “It’s got flaxen hair.” He looks accusingly at Kai. ‘It’s yours.” Kai rolls his brown eyes. “No Mark, - its Cerdig’s. Of course, its mine. My son and Lenni’s.” Mark continues to appear astounded. “I know I haven’t visited for a matter of months – what with the Picts and the Angles and bloody Herrick being rebellious again. But still – how did this happen?” Kai gives Lenni a delicious smile, as she and Esla stir vinegar and lovage into the cauldron, now apparently united against Mark’s stupidity. “Well Mark, it was a rainy night and I went up to Lenni’s hut in search…..”

Mark gives a bark of laughter. “Spare me the grisly details. I’m off to my quarters with this excellent wine. It’s a thirsty ride from Cornwall.” He turns back at the door, suddenly wearing a concerned expression. “I’m not being expected to share my accommodation with my addle-brained sister and that girl-child Corin am I? And their squalling twin brats?” Kai is gratified to see that Mark has grown rather pale. He spreads his hands in apology. “I believe that is the arrangement. As you will appreciate, we are a little short of room…..”

With a snort of disgust, Mark departs. Lenni looks at Kai, puzzled. “ But Braith and Corin arrived this afternoon with Mark’s mother. Hasn’t Braith left the babies with a wet nurse?” Kai grins impishly. “Yes, but Mark doesn’t know that does he? He’ll be convinced they’re lurking somewhere ready to bawl at him. I wager Mark is moving his gear into Dirk’s hut this minute. At least, it will save Corin his ranting tonight.”

Arthur wakes just after dawn the next morning – a morning rich with the scents of spring and renewal and promise. He rolls over and looks around the room. Llud’s bed is empty – Arthur groans inwardly at the mere thought of what his industrious father could have in store for him today – and then gazes across at Kai. His big brother is still contentedly asleep, swaddled in fleeces, blonde and beautiful. Well, much as Arthur might be tempted to crawl in beside him, he will let Kai rest on for now, safe from Llud’s frenzied clutches.

In the main room of the longhouse, Llud sits at the table, staring besottedly at Kai’s new son lying across his knees. From her position by the hearth, Lenni’s eyes follow Arthur’s stealthy progress behind his father’s back, her lips twitching. Moving as soundlessly as a leopard, Arthur sidles toward the door, silently pilfering an apple and a cup of mead on the way. Llud smiles across at Lenni. “You know that you and Kai will have to name this boy soon. We can’t keep referring to him as it.” Lenni sighs. “Kai keeps changing his mind. Truly, I don’t care what he chooses – just as long as he settles on something.”

Without turning around, Llud drums his fingers against the wood of the table. “I know you’re there Arthur. Where do you think you’re going so secretively?” Resignedly admitting defeat, Arthur crunches into his apple, thinking furiously. “I was going to check on Yorath’s quarters. He has to arrive today remember.”

Llud spins around on the bench, the nameless baby raised to his shoulder, and opens his mouth to protest in some fashion – but Arthur is rescued by a messenger who enters to tell them that an emissary has arrived from King Morged. His lordship sends his regrets – he is unable to attend the gathering himself, but has sent a token of tribute in his stead. Apologetically, Arthur grins at his father and rushes outside.

He sees Morgred’s gift at once among the village’s preparatory bustle – a cart containing a dozen or so swords of incomparable workmanship. With bated breath, Arthur picks one up and weighs it expectantly in his hand. It is flawless and lethal, yet almost ethereal to hold and handle. He knows at once who has crafted these weapons – and is therefore not surprised to hear his name spoken quietly at his shoulder, nor to turn around and see a quietly confident man with thick fair hair standing beside him. Of course it is Karn.

Celebrating Feasting........and ants

Karn gazes musingly at the activity surrounding him. “It’s going to be quite a day tomorrow – a great gathering of chieftains and kings. Such a pity Morgred isn’t here to cast his wolfish eye over the proceedings. But he will always be a man who prefers to skulk.” Arthur places the sword he has been grasping back on to the cart. “These are magnificent weapons Karn. You have my appreciation and my thanks. You’ll stay for the next few days of course.” Karn inclines his head. “I’m glad that the swords meet with your approval. I wanted Morgred’s gift to be extraordinary – and I will be pleased to stay.” Karn gives a slight bow, a cordial smile and walks away with a firm tread.

As he makes arrangements for the weapons’ storage, a part of Arthur’s mind is steeped in memories. Asking Llud to arrange the forging of a sword, twice as heavy as usual, so his own would feel as light as a feather, walking to the sword ring that morning flanked by Kai and Llud, the ferocity and elegance of Karn’s attack, the mud masking his vision, Karn’s sword at his throat and his knife aimed at Karn’s middle.......”You said you had no knife……I did not, I asked you if it concerned you…..” Furiously Arthur pushes his dark hair from his eyes and tries to appear composed as he sees Llud hurrying toward him, gesticulating about a paucity of wine…..

The rest of the day passes in a blur of running and fetching, greeting and preparation. After his truancy yesterday regarding Tarn, Kai has been put to work right where Llud can see him, entertaining a succession of visitors: Rolf the Preacher (Kai looking desperate), Hereward the Holy (Kai looking frantic) and Mark’s mother Lia (Kai looking far happier, but having to remember not to make inane jokes about her son).

By the time he is changing his shirt for the feast in the longhouse that night, Kai feels more exhausted than if he had spent the afternoon chasing Cerdig’s soldiers through the marshlands. He lays his head for a moment on Arthur’s shoulder. “And I presume I will have to stay relatively sober tonight since I’ll need a clear head in front of all those sharp-eyed chieftains tomorrow.”

Arthur laughs and brushes his lips across Kai’s forehead. “Yes, but I promise that you can drink your way to the bottom of the barrel after that.” Sighing Kai straightens up and begins to knot the lacings of his shirt. “Two barrels little brother - one each for Hereward and Rolf.”

The roistering that night in the longhouse is loud and jovial. Kai wonders at his son’s ability to sleep peacefully through the clamour – especially after Llud has proudly displayed him around the tables. It is Mark, of course, when in the depths of his second pitcher of mead, who makes a seemingly innocent yet somehow stinging allusion to the baby’s nameless state. Looking up from where he is dicing in a corner of the room with Dirk and Ambrose, Arthur watches Lenni’s brown eyes narrow belligerently.

He is about to interject when his big brother rises from where he has been amicably discussing horse breeding with Yorath. Kai grins benignly at the inebriated king of Cornwall. “But he’s had a name for some time Mark – I just didn’t think it had to be a public matter yet.” Arthur tries to act as if this is not a complete revelation to him, as well as Llud and Lenni. In fact, Kai’s son has had a name for precisely three minutes – since Yorath started speaking passionately about his new thoroughbred stallion and, at the same time, Kai glanced up to see his little brother laughing at something Dirk had said while they gambled…………

And suddenly he was not in the warmth and noise of the longhouse any more but out in the open, lying on his stomach, pressed against Arthur, feeling both contented and reckless after consuming too much mead. As usual he has been losing to his brother for weeks and now has bet everything that his ant will reach a piece of roast boar before Arthur’s. As usual, his luck is awful and the stupid ant gets speedily gobbled up by a passing frog. “How could I know that Theodore was a thoroughbred?” remarks Arthur, blue eyes gleeful……”

Now Mark looks rather disconcerted. “Well, I don’t know why it has to be a secret either. It’s a simple thing really……” His voice trails drunkenly away. Kai smiles politely. “You’re absolutely right Mark. But still, it is a fitting occasion to announce what Llud of the Silver Hand’s first grandson is called. Especially since it has long been a traditional name within Llud’s family. The baby’s name is Theodore.”

Llud manages to look utterly tranquil - quite a feat since the only other Theodore he can ever remember encountering is a Greek mercenary with whom he had once shared a carousing evening at a Gaulish tavern. In the flickering candlelight, Lenni gazes at her husband in blushing adoration – but then he could have chosen to call their son Old Boot Goat Arse and she would have gazed at him in exactly the same manner. The miracle of being married to the world’s most glorious Saxon and the mother of his child will never abate……Kai winks at her quickly and she promptly spills a platter of apples into Rolf’s lap.

“Big brother.” Very quietly Arthur leans in so that his lips are close to Kai’s ear. “Your son is named after a stayer…..” Kai blinks away a hot surge of tears. Arthur pats his shoulder in a brotherly fashion, whispers “My heart” and returns to the dicing – where predictably he has soon stripped Dirk and Ambrose of their remaining bronze and silver……………

It is only by chance that later Kai takes note of Karn at all. He is standing at the longhouse door, holding the newly-designated Theodore, waiting to walk Lenni up to her hut, when he notices Karn. It is the way he moves that catches Kai’s attention – his sober pantherine progress across the room among the other tipsy revellers – and the steady resolute stare that he bestows on Arthur.

Yorath, Arthur and Llud are now huddled at one end of the table, heads together, discussing tomorrow’s negotiations. Kai’s brown eyes flash from Karn, to his brother and back to Morgred’s swordsman. There is something not quite……something that scratches fretfully at the edges of his thoughts…..but then Lenni appears and Kai attempts to dismiss his disquiet as the result of too much ale, excitement and weariness. Arthur will no doubt dismiss it as such. After all anyone would have restive imaginings after listening to Rolf and Hereward prattle for most of the day.

Yet the cool night air still does not dispel the scratchiness. Lenni settles the baby and then enthusiastically demonstrates how relieved she is that their son has finally advanced from being an it. Returning back to the longhouse though, Kai determines to speak to Karn and immediately chides himself – what can he say? You are unaccountably abstemious? Why do you stare at my brother so intently? Is there a cranny of your mind that still wonders if you are the deadliest swordsman in the land?

He is trying to order his jumbled thoughts when he pushes through the longhouse door. Some of the guests have been dispersed in his absence – but Karn remains, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Lia. Arthur smiles sleepily as Kai comes in, murmuring that he is going to check on the sentries before retiring. Kai watches as his brother pulls on his cloak and disappears outside – and the way Karn’s gaze never wavers.

So it is not his feverish imagination. He is about to approach Karn when Mark suddenly slings an arm around him, making some ribald befuddled comments that seem to concern Abbot Morphett and certain poultry predilections. Irritated now, Kai shrugs him off, telling Mark impatiently to seek his bed. Tomorrow is going to be a more than lively day.

Let Karn think what he will – Kai is no longer concerned about rankling him. But, when he manages to disentangle himself from Mark and looks around again, Lia is laughing genially with Llud, the longhouse is almost emptied and Karn is gone………

Celebrating Risk........and resolution

Llud shakes Kai awake just after dawn the next morning, making an emphatic gesture not to wake Arthur. Blinking drowsily, Kai reflects that at least it is more congenial than a bucket of water….. Out in the main room, Llud frowns. “One of the scouts came in a few hours ago – today of all days – he thinks there might be a movement of Cerdig’s troops to the south. You know that your brother can’t be spared this morning, although given half a chance he’ll insist on going himself – best that you and Tugram ride out to check this report. Just be careful Kai – and try to be back by midday.”

Kai nods, fully awake now. There have already been some vague rumours about Cerdig preparing an attack on the edges of Cornwall. Mark would have left his villages well defended but erring on the side of caution is always prudent -and Llud is no panic-merchant. Uneasily Kai remembers his discomfort last night regarding Karn - but then his thoughts are distracted by the arrival of Tugram, the need to hurry, the urgency to be back at Arthur’s side by the early afternoon at the latest….. Surely, Kai reasons, as he gallops out past the river, Karn –whatever his resentments or regrets - will remain dormant with so many chieftains and kings roosting in the longhouse…….

Now there is really nothing to do but wait for the pledges to be made, Arthur reflects as he walks around the village in the warm spring sunshine, inspecting the last of the preparations. With every step he craves Kai beside him. Llud has done right by sending his big brother scouting – no-one can do so as unobtrusively yet thoroughly as Kai. And undoubtedly he will have returned long before the formalities begin. Still, negotiations of today’s magnitude can be tricky. By tonight the whole balance of power, of their defences, within the Celtic alliance will be irrevocably changed forever. Arthur sighs. He so yearns for Kai’s laughing reassurance that, of course, all will be well………..

“For the love of the gods Arthur, I’ve never known you to be so skittish since you were a child. “ Llud looks at his younger son in amusement, where Arthur is lurking in the longhouse kitchen with Lenni and the baby, amid a cloud of partridge feathers. “Everything is in place – so stop worrying. Go and clear your head before you’re claimed by Mark – or worse, Rolf.”

As so often before, Llud’s advice is completely timely. The spring woods are blossoming into life, fragrant and intoxicating. Arthur strides through the undergrowth, already feeling calmer. Around him, the new young leaves of the oaks blush with an almost autumnal ruddiness. He stops beside one and runs his hand reflectively across the fine deep ridges of its grey bark.

It is a common belief among his people that guardian spirits dwell in the oak. Touching its wood is regarded as both a warding off of misfortune and a plea for good fortune. Arthur grins. No better day than today to pay his respects to the tree spirits…….. Then suddenly a dagger comes hurling through the air, embedding itself in the oak with a dull thud, mere inches from his fingers and his face.

His hand instinctively grasping for his sword, Arthur whirls around. Karn is pacing methodically toward him, wearing a quietly assured smile and holding one of his own flawlessly crafted swords. His intent is obvious. Arthur looks at Karn, disbelieving. “Don’t be foolish Karn. This is madness. It has long ceased to matter who is better with the sword out of you and I.” Karn gives a heavy sigh, still smiling. “To me it has always continued to matter. I am not a leader of the Celts Arthur. I have had plenty of time at my forge to think and wonder. Let me make something clear though. I do not wish to kill you. I have never desired that.”

Arthur’s thoughts fly furiously, as he grapples for a way to appease Karn. They are too far into the woods for sounds to carry distinctly back to the village….. “Is this something that you and Morged concocted together? I know he still hates me as much as ever. But it is a mistake Karn. After today the Celtic alliance will be even stronger.”

Karn laughs almost derisively. “ No Morged knows nothing of this. He may still hate you, but he’s certainly not prepared to act on his feelings. Morged told me to deliver his tribute and then stay well clear of you Arthur – yet while his spirit may be broken mine is not. He is as weak a fool as he ever was and his opinion means less to me than chaff on the wind. I said once long ago in that sword ring that between you and I, there would be another day, another time – and that day is today and that time is now.”

Without warning Karn charges at Arthur. He is sent reeling backwards by Karn’s savage flurry of one-handed assaults. Two hands on his weapon, Arthur frenziedly parries. Karn is jabbing and swiping, in a deceptively wild haphazard fashion – when, in reality, every jab is exact, each swipe adroit. Arthur feels himself being manoeuvred expertly down a gentle slope between the oaks.

Suddenly Arthur attacks Karn with a fierce offensive slash, curving his sword in a diagonal arc upwards and away from his body. Karn is stunned, his sword arm clipped downwards, his blade unexpectedly grazing the dirt. Seizing the advantage, Arthur lashes out, kicking Karn in the chest. Tumbling down the slope, Karn lands sprawling on his stomach, his weapon clasped in front of him.

Impassively, Arthur walks in a semi-circle around Karn. “This is a worthless exercise that proves nothing. Put away your sword Karn. You know that I will always respect your skill as a warrior.” Karn looks up, his blue eyes intense, and springs lithely to his feet. “No Arthur. Keep your good will and diplomacy for the negotiating table. This matter will never be resolved between us until we really know.”

Honed sword raised nearly above his head, Karn launches into a second attacking onslaught. Arthur confronts him, undeviating, and their wickedly sharp weapons clash, resounding through the rustling greenery. They stab and lunge, Karn spare and rhythmic in his movements, Arthur more brutal now that he is certain words can never determine this encounter. As the flat of their blades lock, Arthur ferociously tosses Karn aside. Karn spins as Arthur attempts to slash his sword arm, deftly blocking Arthur’s movement and forcibly throwing him off.

Almost falling backwards, Arthur ducks, enraged, as the tip of Karn’s sword scores the gnarly oak beside him. Smiling complacently, Karn tugs his deadly weapon free from the bark. He is gaining mastery of this contest – and Arthur can recognize it in every muscle of his throbbing right hand. Moving mercurially, Karn slices Arthur’s left arm, his smile widening as he watches the rosy spurt of blood, hears Arthur’s stifled grimace of pain.

Arthur stumbles, his teeth gritted. Karn gazes at him imperturbably. “ We can end this here and now Arthur. Simply admit that I am the victor and return to that great gathering of chieftains in your village. After all, they can’t proceed without you.” Arthur’s answer is spat in fury. “You had your chance Karn – I offered you a resolution that you refused. Now, we shall really see.”

Enraged, Arthur assails Karn, his sword savagely hammering. But Karn’s defence is keen-edged and Arthur’s gall makes him heavy-handed. Arthur’s blade clatters to the leafy ground, lost from his grasp. Reckless with triumph, Karn elbows him in the face, then straightens, smiling jubilantly. “So, finally Arthur, the contest is over and the victor decided.”

With an almost imperceptible twist of his foot, Arthur flings his weapon back into his right hand. Karn gapes for scarcely a heartbeat – yet it is plentiful time for Arthur to resume his attack. Now he is more controlled, weaving with measured poise. All at once uncertain, Karn awkwardly swings the edge of his blade sidewards, striving to strike Arthur’s sword arm.

Decisively Arthur uses the full force of his gleaming weapon to sweep Karn off his feet, slicing the leather of his shirt so that an angry red weal opens up across his waist. With a deafening cry of frustration, Karn falls awkwardly on to his back – and his blade falls from his hand. Gasping in exhaustion and relief, Arthur plants his sword lightly against Karn’s neck. “Now at last – the contest ended - the champion determined .”

Wearily Karn climbs to his feet. “What are you going to do Arthur? Banish me to Gaul?” Arthur shakes his dark head, smiling sadly. “No. Once I might have – but no. Go home Karn. Put your strength to good use keeping Morged’s rapacity in check and make your sons proud of their warrior father. The most sensible thing you could do for the protection of my people and yours, would be to finally take up Morged’s offer of becoming his right arm. And help me make certain that we Celts are not all slain in our beds one night. Being one of the deadliest swordsmen in the land is only serviceable if it can be employed for some worthwhile cause.” Arthur balances his sword thoughtfully in his hand, then thrusts it emphatically into his scabbard.

Celebrating unions of all kinds........and mead

“Arthur!” He is still standing, watching Karn’s departing back, when he hears his name being called sharply from behind. It is Rowena. He doesn’t know the name for what she is wearing – but it is silvery-green and somehow seems to float around her. Milky pearls are entwined throughout her cropped hair and glint in her ears.

She takes in his dishevelled appearance and tries to look severe – yet her blue-grey eyes are soft. “ Llud sent me to find you – and a good thing too. Are you going to make a habit of fighting with your sword and almost getting killed on every day when I’m supposed to get married?” Arthur chews his lip as if considering. “Well, it’s only been twice before – Hecla followed by Mark.” He smiles. “Alright, we’d better ensure this is the last time then.” And he holds out his hand.

The look of consternation that Llud throws Arthur as he races past into the longhouse tells him quite clearly that if Karn has not managed to murder him, that at this moment, Llud quite cheerfully would – and if Arthur had been younger he would not have sat down for at least a week. Hurriedly he pours some hot water into a basin, splashes in a sprinkling of salt and washes, wincing as the brine bites at the wound in his arm. He’s also certain that one side of his face is swelling into a distinct purplish blemish where Karn’s elbow inflicted damage. Arthur sighs as he winds a strip of cloth around the gash above his elbow. Llud is going to be more than furious…….

Dressing hastily in the nook beside the hearth, Arthur is about to leave the longhouse when he hears muffled sounds coming from the sleeping chamber. Peering inside, he sees Kai rummaging through his clothes chest, muttering distractedly to himself. Quietly, Arthur stands just inside the door. “What did you find when you went scouting big brother? Anything alarming?” Kai does not turn around, continuing to delve in the depths of the chest. “No, nothing too disturbing. It seems that Cerdig is clearing the forests rather close to our boundaries. Some cavalry can scare the silly Saxon peasants away in the next few days.”

Then he glances up and leaps to his feet with a cry of concern, examining Arthur’s bruised cheek. “What happened to you while I was gone?” Arthur grins wryly. “Karn happened – but I think it’s been dealt with now.” Tenderly Kai brushes his fingers across his brother’s blue-black skin. “I noticed him last night at the feast – I should have said something, warned you……” Arthur presses Kai’s hand to his lips. “Oh Kai my heart, nothing was going to prevent Karn from attempting to prove he was still the deadliest swordsman in the land. All over now and perhaps some lasting good has come from it after all…..”

Suddenly Kai notices what Arthur is wearing. “My blue shirt – little brother, that’s what I’ve been searching for.” Very gently, Arthur cups Kai’s face between his fingers, brushes back his tangled blonde hair. “Listen to me my Kai. I know that this marriage will bring many benefits to our people - a lasting alliance between the Celts and the Jutes. And I do love Rowena in my own fashion – I wouldn’t think of marrying anyone else for a moment. But believe me too, when I say that I need to do this with something of yours next to my heart.”

Kai realises that there are hot tears making serpentine trails down his cheeks. He sniffs – feeling absolutely foolish and warm all over and utterly loved. “Well, I had better wear the purple shirt I suppose.” Arthur smiles, his blue eyes wet and wide. “Regal purple – you’ve always looked beautiful in that….” and he leans toward Kai……..

A little while later, when he stands beside his chieftain brother inside the wedding grove, Kai can still feel the heady imprint of Arthur’s mouth on his own……

Unlike the previous night’s banquet which was confined to the longhouse, that night’s marriage feast encompasses the village and way beyond. Celebratory bonfires burn across the encircling hills and all the way down to the estuary. If Cerdig is looking out from his territory tonight, he may well fear that a formidable invasion force is on its way over his borders.

Llud sits proudly between Yorath and Olwen – even the earlier turmoil of the day and his younger son’s bruised face temporarily forgotten. Always extremely fond of Rowena, Llud is looking forward to her lively presence permanently around the longhouse. As the mead flows, Yorath becomes tearful at the realisation that his daughter won’t be coming home with him this time. He never thought he would say it but he is going to miss her viperish tongue and the need to duck flying tableware…..

Carefully Llud slips his hand into Olwen’s below the table. Weddings always make him rather amorous. Olwen looks particularly handsome tonight in a wine red gown. Later he may need to prove to her again just what an alluring woman she is and how passionately he desires her. Warmly Olwen returns the pressure of Llud’s fingers. She glances at him, already giddy with longing. Not bad for a pair of grandparents…….

At some point during the night, Kai notices Rowena taking herself off discreetly to the longhouse sleeping chamber. Arthur has ensconced himself in a corner again, dicing with Dirk and Tarn, watched by Brother Amlodd and Abbot Morphett. Kai narrows his eyes suspiciously at the two holy men – they seem more than a little……friendly. Then he furiously shakes his head, telling himself not to be so ridiculous. He’s obviously consumed far more adder’s sting than he has supposed.

An hour or so later Lenni appears from the bedroom, franticly gesturing to Kai. All at once Kai is more than usually sober. Rowena has been in there a good while now – and so is Llud’s best mead pitcher which will not survive being flung furiously through the door…….

Quietly he puts his mouth to Arthur’s ear. “Little brother…..Rowena……I think she’s expecting something.” Arthur looks up, smiling. “Something my Kai?” Kai nods slightly toward the bedroom door. “Your duty as a Celtic chieftain…..or something more pleasurable perhaps…..” Realisation slowly dawns. Arthur grins ruefully at his big brother. ‘Oh…..”

Kai happily eyes Arthur’s large pile of bronze and silver winnings. “I’ll take over here since you’re going to be otherwise ……..occupied.” For the first time Arthur seems alarmed. “But Kai, I’m doing so well.” Unperturbed, Kai is already sitting down and rattling the dice. “Little brother, since you’ve been so lucky on all fronts today, your luck is bound to rub off……”

As the noise of the feast increases, it is probably only Kai, wedged into the corner beside the intervening wicker wall, who hears Rowena’s lilting laugh and knows that Llud’s pitcher is safe for the moment at least. And Arthur’s luck certainly does hold since miraculously Kai only manages to lose three-quarters of his bounty……….

No doubt many of the villagers and the visitors expect that their young leader of the Celtic alliance will emerge from the longhouse at some leisurely hour the next day – if indeed he emerges at all. The sleepy guard, lackadaisically tending the village warning system and tenderly nursing a throbbing morning-after head, is therefore completely daunted to see his chieftain resolutely emerging from the mist, just after dawn - and to receive the harshest tongue-lashing of his life for his indolence. As is the drowsy farm-hand who is not shovelling manure efficiently enough to satisfy Arthur and the lethargic door sentry, outside the longhouse.

From under the table, where he had fallen asleep at some very late unspecified hour, Kai hears his brother’s diatribe and grins to himself. Silly daft fools. They should have known that not even his own marriage feast would ever make Arthur neglect his usual duties. Kai stretches dozily and rolls over. He might get up before midday – or then again, maybe not. He frowns – and realises he is looking straight into the leather-clad cheeks of Mark’s buttocks, who is sprawled, snoring, beside him. Hastily Kai scrambles over to the hearth, shuffles aside a somnolent Corin and is wonderfully comatose again before his tousled blonde head has touched the rushes…….

Celebrating True Love.........and Infinite Promise

Down amidst the undergrowth on the riverbank the only sounds are the lapping of the water, the lapping of Kai’s tongue – and Arthur’s answering bleats of bliss. Kai slowly sucks one ball and the other, then wickedly tugs on his brother’s dark curly fur with his teeth. Arthur writhes in ecstasy.

One oily hand embracing the base of Arthur’s steepled shaft, Kai takes his little brother in, devouring his prick with his very wet mouth and even wetter tongue. Languidly he slithers back up to the top of Arthur’s turgid cock, his roguish brown gaze fixed on Arthur’s widening blue eyes.

With enthusiastic explorative licks, Kai swirls his tongue around the rim of Arthur’s shaft head, gently nibbling the tender bit of skin on the underside. Teasingly his fingers cup his brother’s balls, mischievously pinch his nipples. Licking feverishly, Kai moistens the area around Arthur’s foreskin, lovingly edging the hood down with his tongue.

Arthur groans deep in his throat, so close to the tumult cleaving. Plunging his fist into a basin of perfumed oil, Kai inserts three warm fingers into Arthur’s dewy cleft, his hand palm side up, almost all the way in. While his tongue continues to snake and churn, Kai gradually slants his fingers toward Arthur’s navel, then curves them bit-by-bit into a ‘come here’ gesture…….

The bellow of exaltation that reverberates around the river valley startles the orange-breasted robins, frightens a colony of sparrows into loudly squabbling flight, astounds the blackbirds foraging for insects and worms..............A creature capable of emitting such a baying must be wondrous indeed……

Kai swallows and stretches happily. “ So, I have just made love to the best swordsman in the land – with the most impressive weapon…….. And you’ve been married for exactly one week. How does that feel little brother?” Arthur considers, his breath still coming in great heaving gasps. “Just as if Rowena is……..Rowena. Now that it’s done it somehow feels as if I was always meant to follow Llud’s fatherly advice for most situations.” Kai’s lips quirk. “Which piece of advice would that be Arthur – ‘had to come’ or ‘you had to do it’?”

They are overwhelmed by irrepressible laughter that results in Arthur’s dark head falling against Kai’s naked chest, his silky hair sweeping across his brother’s nipples. Immediately Kai’s nipples pay homage so that Arthur’s mouth deliriously reciprocates - expressive, strong, moist, warm – from Kai’s velvety navel, to his golden thighs and flat stomach, his ripe balls and thick pulsating cock……… this time the joyous roar panics the birds all the way out past the tidewater to the flat rock……..

“Actually to finally answer your question, my Kai…..,” Arthur nuzzles dreamily against his brother’s shoulder, “Being married does mean that people will stop looking askance at me because I’m not interested in womanising. Just as you’ve stopped wenching – although I know that was never a hardship for you. And mostly it feels as if Rowena is simply here on a visit any way.” Kai bites his lip. “You do realise that she’s not going home with Yorath tomorrow don’t you little brother?” Arthur looks slightly annoyed. “ Of course. Big brother, I’m not totally ignorant where women are concerned you know.” Grinning to himself, Kai pulls Arthur closer. If the cloak fits as they say……

Slowly Kai’s brown eyes darken. The mention of womanising has stirred something….. Should he tell him? Now? Arthur is chuckling, ill humour forgotten. “Lenni’s certainly happier sharing a kitchen with Rowena rather than Esla – although she won’t be able to let Rowena do more than chop the odd vegetable or pluck the odd fowl. And now, my heart, I think we must get back to the village. A messenger from Morged arrived at midday – apparently Karn has finally decided to take up Morged’s offer to be his right-hand lieutenant. At least it might placate Llud – that bawling-out he gave me five days ago is still making my ears ring. Anyway, regarding Karn, there are certain matters…..” He notices Kai’s silent stillness. “Big brother, is something wrong?”

Tenderly, Kai presses his lips to Arthur’s forehead. “Wrong? No rather the opposite……simply something I should have said long ago.” He takes a steadying breath. “You know, little brother, the morning after Lenni and I…..the first time…….I’d made a decision…….” His voice trails away uncertainly. Arthur caresses Kai’s hand that is wrapped around his shoulder, playfully kisses the fingers. “What? That next time I put your gear outside the bedroom door you were going to throw it at my head?”

Kai’s response is very soft. “No, that Lenni was going to be the last woman I ever…..whatever had happened……. I didn’t need anything else besides you ever again….my heart has always been yours and I know its safe in your keeping. Vows may be necessary for the world. But all I have to do every day is follow my heart, stay by your side - and love you……”

Arthur breaths in the scent of Kai’s skin, kisses him gently, pulls back slightly to look into his beautiful brown eyes. They can sense everything in that instant: the metallic cough of a pheasant echoing through the woodlands, the green iridescence of the leaves, the mesmerising mirror of the calm waters, the mellow sunlight slanting through the trees, the warmth of their entangled limbs, their beating hearts speaking to each other without words, the infinite promise of what is to come……

Epilogue - Celebrating, Fatherhood, Family and Fruit

It has been the grandest of days – and an even grander night. For a long time I thought that it was an occasion that would never come – that I would have two fine handsome sons who would not ever marry and have families themselves. I have never resented what they share – I am the last man in the world to begrudge love and the first to recognize that the heart is the least biddable of hunters.

Yet, as you grow older, the thought that grandchildren would be welcome tends to become more vocal on winter nights when your bones ache and you shiver as the wind howls around the longhouse. It is not that my home has ever lacked warmth or meaning – on the contrary, I am already blessed in every way and any want I may have thought I felt was simply avarice.

And I had become quite reconciled to how the future would be. Well, reconciled is the wrong word anyway. It implies dissatisfaction and regret when there has never been either. I simply thought that what would perhaps be nice, could not be achieved without a miracle from the firmament – and I am not a believer in the Christ of the One God’s sensations. Nor have I ever been one to hanker after the firmament too fiercely – life is not lived among the stars, even if sometimes the gods are merciful enough to let us bath in their glow……..

I thought I knew exactly how it was back in Mark’s village, on the night before he and Rowena were supposed to marry. Go and tell Rowena that you love her I instructed Arthur in what I deemed was a reasonable manner. ( Let me emphasise that I knew there were other matters to be settled as well and note that I did not say “in love” – lightning of that magnitude strikes only once - but where there’s a will…..) Predictably I was met by that familiar obdurate blue stare. I’m not sure that I want to get married was his stubborn reply. That, it seemed, was an end to it. There was no marriage to Mark – and in fact Arthur prevented it in the most spectacular fashion the next day – but he showed no inclination to pursue the issue further.

Then my shrewd old eyes noted that Lenni was becoming uncharacteristically round, my shrewd old mind did some calculations back to a certain rainy night when Kai had been banished from the longhouse and I had taken refuge in Olwen’s hut - and my shrewd old nose twitched in the right direction……Which has led to my beautiful blonde grandson Theodore.

( Here two things make me smile remembering – firstly, that my sons think I do not recall an occasion some years ago when they bet on an ant race…..and secondly how blind Kai has always been with regard to Lenni’s feelings – how long have I known that she is in love with him? – since the moment after it happened, beside the Beltane bonfire – how long has Arthur known? – since the day after, when Lenni blushed so brightly simply glancing at Kai that she rivalled the poppies down beside the lake – how long has Kai been aware? – since the night his son was conceived…….)

Certainly, Kai and Arthur would not last a day without each other. I am as sure of that as I am that the red fox is cunning and clever or the field mouse lives in the hedgerow. Each is the reason why the other’s heart beats and only with each other are they completely free. What they share is simply trust with no fear. Which is why I lay wakeful the night after I realised that Kai had given Lenni more than one gift while the rain drizzled down, fretting about how we could ford the coming tempest. I should have known though that somehow we had already splashed through and even then, could feel the sunshine on the other side.............

Not that Arthur and Kai – despite breathing heart to heart - haven’t had enough slopes in the road before to make life interesting – the names Goda, Eithna and Benedicta come to mind, as well as the path strewn with broken female dreams that has always seemed to follow Kai as inevitably as autumn follows summer. Lately though the road has straightened and it seems to be a season of blackthorn and celandines set fair. Long may it continue........

So, at last, we have had a wedding (and yes, I did understand the significance of Arthur clad in his brother’s blue shirt, even if Rowena merely thought that it made his blue eyes even more beautiful; and no, I have not forgotten his bruised face or the foolhardy incident involving Karn – stern words will be forthcoming); the Celts and the Jutes are formally united; and the minstrel will write songs about the glory of the marriage feast. Now a warm breeze is blowing as Olwen and I step out of the longhouse, hand in hand.

The rejoicing in the village and throughout the neighbouring encampments will continue at least until dawn. And we are far from the only couple made amorous by the occasion. All around us twosomes are discreetly or not-so-discreetly proclaiming their affections – including young Corin and Mark’s sister Braith who are embracing in a way that totally nullifies the old adage that marriage kills passion.

However we have a private celebration planned now that Arthur has been safely dispatched to Rowena in the sleeping chamber - a celebration that involves only Olwen and me. She looks splendid tonight in a gown that is the exact colour of new wine from dark-hued grapes. I know that there is fresh mead and an inviting fire in her hut – and that all her children are occupied elsewhere……..

My lovely staunch loyal Olwen. Her husband was a good man and a good friend. He gave his life in defence of the village when that monster Morcant attempted his treachery. Thank Mithras that Kai held his head down among the lilies. I was able to tell her truthfully that in time even the rawest wounds of grief scab over. In time too we discovered that we could offer each other comfort, companionship – and love.

Brimming with anticipation, I turn toward her hut, smiling as I hear Kai’s unmistakeable laughter ringing out from the longhouse. The throngs of tipsy villagers and visitors make me smile too. Such a joyous shimmering night……..But Olwen pulls on my hand and gestures toward the palisade and the river beyond. “Ah”, I think, “she wants to walk in the quiet before we retire.” I squeeze her fingers gently in assent and we wander out into the spring darkness.

Down beside the moonlit water, we stop and I kiss her tenderly. Lucky lucky favoured man. Then Olwen surprises me. She twirls exuberantly and kisses me again, but not softly this time – this kiss is all passion and compulsion and longing. I crush her mouth against mine, fully expecting that soon we will hurry back to the village - and the refuge of her hut. But Olwen has more marvels in store…….

Raising her fine brown eyebrows in enquiry, she signals toward the river. “It’s a balmy evening Llud my love and no-one will see…..” I simply stare at her in dazed disbelief. I have not indulged in such wonderful reckless abandonment with a woman since I was a young man of two and twenty, newly betrothed to Cerys. And I had thought that never again…….

Smiling Olwen unlaces her gown and pulls it sensuously over her head. The silvery moonlight gleams on her magnificent buttocks as she crosses toward the water in a welter of delighted squeals. I do not hesitate – in a heartbeat all my garments lie in a tangled pile on top of her wine-coloured gown. With bated breath I admire her radiant nudity – her large high breasts, the pride and dignity in her stance, her chestnut-gold bush…….

The first whisper of the cool river makes me shiver but then we wade in and it is as if we are swimming in sunny nectar. Olwen lies back against me, her strong deft hands stroking my rigid cock, my ravenous tongue licking and fondling her taut rosy nipples. Then I cup one creamy breast reverently in my hand, lower my head and begin to suckle…….

We hardly make it back to the undergrowth in time. It is utterly miraculous – sweet and ferocious, fragrant and silken, ripe and throbbing……….When the burgeoning swells overwhelm, we hold each other close – then fall asleep wrapped in my cloak, perfectly secure and absolutely cherished……

Next morning at dawn I am abruptly awakened by something striding fiercely through the bushes close to my ear – Arthur’s boots as he marches on his way to lash an unfortunate sentry with his scorching tongue. I simply lie with my arm around Olwen and try to stifle my laughter against the proffered fruit of her breasts.

(Later on we will sneak back to the longhouse where I will spend the day admiring Theo; Kai is grinning and teasing his brother; Arthur pretends to be annoyed when really he is giddy every time he looks into those dancing brown eyes; Rowena wafts around on an euphoric cloud while Yorath stumbles about in sentimental tears; and Lenni will be angry because Mark spends most of the day snoring in her kitchen. At some point I will be struck by the strange notion that, of us all , the most married people seem to be my two sons in relation to each other - but that will only prove that I drunk far more mead last night than I supposed........)

For now though Olwen lies nestled against me, – and there are luscious dates to suck, juicy melons to savour, honeyed peaches to tipple – all glowing, with warmth and welcome, in the sunrise...........


End file.
